


Playing Make Believe

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: Angie Yonaga carves wax smiles and makes them her own.





	Playing Make Believe

**Author's Note:**

> v3 spoilers up to chapter 3///
> 
>  
> 
> /// a look into angie's time in her lab during chapter 3!

Gently, gently, she gives them eyes! Dull eyes to watch their savior with, and pretty noses with tapered tips, Angie will give them everything. For Angie is a vessel of her god Atua, and Atua will give them everything, and they will be so very happy.

But of course, of course! Why wouldn’t they be? Everyone will see the dead rise, will see the miracle in front of their eyes, and Angie will give them hope again!

Hope so that they will stay right here in the academy, they’ll be one big family, and nobody — nobody is going to get hurt anymore.

Nobody will be sad, nobody will cry, and most of all, most importantly, nobody will want to die.

Nobody will die.

( _Somebody_ will.)

Nobody will. Not anymore. Not if Angie is here. Not if Atua is here to guide Angie! What a relief! They’re all saved!

(With [Atua], and for [Atua]’s sake, [she] will stop at nothing to get [her] way.)

Angie nods thoughtfully at her unpainted wax statue of Kaede, and if she squints, she can almost see lovely Kaede nodding back.

“My, my, you were right all along,” Angie tells her with an excited wave of her hands. “We have to work together! That’s why Angie set up the student council, you know, for everybody’s sake — so that everybody can work together to preserve the peace in the academy and be safe and happy! It is the perfect paradise plan, wouldn’t you agree?”

Kaede doesn’t reply. Angie frowns. It’s no good — she can’t have a conversation like this. Kaede looks so grey and empty, which isn’t Kaede at all. Then Angie will have to make her happier! Only Angie can!

With determination, Angie reaches for the paints to give Kaede her colors back. Her friends will be so glad, they’ll see and they’ll finally understand. It’s true! They will!

Everybody loves Kaede, and if Angie can let them see her again, then maybe, she could bring Kaede… _no_ , Atua says Angie cannot lose sight of her goal. She will not lose sight of her goal.

(It's true, [she] had never dared to lose sight of [her] goal, and when [she’s] done [her] duty, [Atua] will be most pleased.)

Rantarou, Angie knows, is the only one that’s coming back.

If Angie wants to see Kaede again, this is the closest she is allowed to get. Clenching her fists, she rises and gives wax Kaede a big hug before she begins to paint.

“Angie is sorry.” She mumbles. “Kaede is not the chosen one.”

She gives Kaede warm pink cheeks and hair in smooth waves — gently dusted a pale yellow, lighter than sand on a beach, and just about the color of Angie’s raincoat when it’s been left in the sun for too long. Kaede’s vest is a purple-pink, maybe lavender, maybe lilac, and Angie mixes and mixes a color she is sure sweet Kaede would like.

Pink like wet cotton candy, pink like blood, she keeps on mixing and painting and mixing and painting, and there’s suddenly too much pink in the room but Kaede is colorful again, so Angie drops the pianist’s well-manicured wax hand and skips to her next masterpiece — twirling as she goes.

Ah, Rantarou! He is chosen! She stops short in front of him.

“Yoohoo! Rantarou! It’s Angie!” She pats his unfinished arm. “Atua is here to make you pretty again!”

She giggles, swapping her brush for her sculpting knife, and then heaving herself up onto the shelf so she can reach his face. “Wahah, so tall! Angie wonders what you like to eat, is it avocados, by any chance? Angie’s favorite food is avocado! She thinks it’s fun to gnaw on the middle bit. You know the bit that’s really hard, and shaped like a … hm, a ball?” Angie gasps and reaches forward to cover his ears. “No, no, no! Don’t listen! Angie is sorry, and forgot for a moment that dear Rantarou was killed by a ball. Such a shame, sorry, sorry,” she sighs, jamming her knife into his wax head. “What a troublesome tale, don’t you think?”

She must finish Rantarou, and he must be perfect, because he will be brought back to life for real, and Atua wants her to hurry up so she can see his smile again! Rantarou always had such a friendly smile! When her friends see it, won’t they be happy again? They will! How divine — then Angie will be happy too! Happy, happy, happy!

She hums as she works, dragging her sculpting tool through his big, blocky head, shaping and forming. Refining. Her movements, here too, are Atua’s movements. She has never sculpted in her life — Atua moves her as though she were a mere puppet, and she allows it.

Atua’s power flows through Angie and she is at peace.

She’s suddenly much much happier to work on Rantarou, giving him a gentle gaze and long lashes one by one, but he too, gets tiring, so Angie rushes through to give herself time for the next.

([She’s] running out of time.)

(Why is that? [Angie] has all night, [Atua] had told [her] so.)

(Why does it feel like [she’s] running out of time?)

She gazes at Rantarou and Kaede each. They stare back, motionless, their warmth nothing but ghosts of the past.

Angie grits her teeth, then remembers to smile really big, and puts them next to each other so that she can hug them both before she moves onto Ryouma.

“Dearest Ryouma!” She sings, rolling onto the floor by the wax figure’s feet. “Did you miss Angie like she misses you?” _Probably not_ , she thinks wryly, but the grin never leaves her face.  

“Ah, Ryouma, you’re such a smart boy. A smart and fast and cool boy.” Angie says. Her pearl bracelet clinks against his skull. “You should have believed in Atua and lived on, like Angie does! The student council would be glad to have you, y’know? Catch people before they sneak out at night! Help Angie keep everybody safe! Everybody happy! Can’t that be your reason to live?!” Angie swallows, hearing her voice crack.

No, no. No feelings. No emotions.

Just. One. Goal.

(It’s like [Atua] always says. Do not lose sight of what is important.)

(Do not fall victim to emotion.)

She picks up her brush again.

(There is no more time for hesitation.)

Painting Ryouma is almost sad. For Ryouma is black and blue, like a storm but on land – but aren’t storms on land if they end up on earth anyway? What about ocean storms, when they hit the ocean floor?

Is it where it starts or where it ends that matters, Angie asks Atua, and Atua says that Angie should stay on task before it gets too late and the spooky floorboard creaks pull Angie’s golden heart six foot under.

(Hurry up.)

Angie agrees, it is quite a windy night, maybe because Ryouma is a storm, and Angie knocks the horns of his hat over twice by accident, which may be a bad sign, but Angie is protected so she isn’t afraid.

(Work faster.)

She isn’t sad when she smooths the planes of Ryouma’s face, she sees all that the fragments of who he used to be and she makes him whole again. _Why can’t we bring him back_ , Angie asks, and Atua answers that the others would benefit most if they chose Rantarou.

([Atua] is always right, so [Angie] doesn’t question it any further. Always right.)

She works on Kirumi last. Long, droopy, elegant lines, Angie shapes the folds of her skirt with a long swoops of her arms, grinning all the while.

“Kirumi’s so beautiful,” she sighs, peering up at Kirumi’s face. “Why did you have to go?”

Kirumi says nothing.

“Angie knows, it’s okay, there is nothing more Kirumi needs to say.” She smiles. Again. She doesn’t falter. Her brush sweeps over Kirumi’s black gloves. “Because … it was for your country, right? Your country was your ‘everyone’! And the reason Angie is doing this is for Angie’s ‘everyone’ — the ‘everyone’ right here in this academy! We all have our reasons for doing the things we do, no? Bad things, good things…”

Angie enjoys carving the lace especially — stabbing holes into the wax with the thinnest, pointiest tool in her arsenal, and blowing away the minuscule debris as though she is a god herself, summoning the winds. She finishes with a kiss atop Kirumi's gloved hands.

"And just like that, you are finished!"

These are her friends. Her old and new friends. A paradox, but also a truth.

Their smiles come last, because Angie’s favorite part of all is being able to make them smile.

Very carefully, she carves out Kaede’s lips, tilts Rantarou’s upwards and curls Ryouma’s, smooths her fingers over Kirumi’s and beams at each as she does so. If it’s possible, they smile even brighter back at her, and she beams and beams and beams.

“What a perfect family,” Angie whispers, brushing wax shavings from their glassy stares. With small dabs of half-peach half-salmon, she gives their smiles feeling. Finishing with a spritz of gloss, uncaring of how some color sprays back at her, she declares, “You are in debt to Atua now, for Atua has made you immortal.”

She pokes Kirumi’s nose, pats Ryouma’s cheek, pinches a splinter from Rantarou’s temple and presses down a sharp edge on Kaede’s collar. Angie takes good care of her friends. “You will live even longer than Angie – that is Atua’s will.”

She nudges the book on the floor with her foot, keeping it to the side as she kicks away the excess wax, cleaning the room to make space, stomping on wisps of wax too small to pick up.

“Angie will be back!” She sings, blowing each of them a kiss. They are so perfect, her friends, and their smiles so true.

Soon, she will hold fire, and the fire will become a heart, and with this heart, she will grant one of her friend’s the gift of life.

(What's that sound?)

She will restore peace. She will save everyone. That is Angie’s duty.

([She’s] not scared).

Angie opens the lab door. The hallways are howling. Alerted to her presence, the world is bending. Angie is powerful. Angie is in control.

([She’s] not scared, because [Atua] is always watching over [her]).

([Atua] will ensure that nothing goes wrong.)

“See you soon!” Angie calls back into the room, just so her friends know she won’t be gone for long. The door closes behind her, and she keeps her smile plastered to her face; she is so close. So close. Just a little more.

([She’s] not scared, because as long as everything goes according to plan, there should be no reason to be).

Her steps are light on the wood as she treks – recalls the candles clearly flickering in those empty rooms down the hall, and Atua beckons her closer and closer, for the ritual is almost complete.

([Angie] has never been scared of anything [she] can remember).

(Because [Atua] is always by [her] side.)

There are three empty rooms, but the middle one is the loudest. If there are rats at the school, they must be chewing through the wood, Angie thinks, and Atua tells Angie that now that she is here, she must take care of them. For the sake of everybody. Like always.

(It’s too noisy.)

She enters the middle room, humming all the while, smiling that plastic plastic smile as though she were made of wax herself — surely, she can not disappoint her friends if she does. Smile. Smile. Smile. Those rats must have been hungry. Even in the dark, Angie takes care not to step where there's a plank missing. 

(Think fast. What’s the next move?)

The candle closest seems to brighten in her presence, and she saunters towards it, quietly, quietly.

(Don’t hesitate.)

It’s getting hard to breathe.

([She] is so close.)

What’s that sound?

([She] can’t back out now.)

Don’t look back.

Her fingers reach out for the tongue of fire, perched in waiting on the soft wax that sadly isn’t carved with Atua’s hands. Sadly doesn’t possess the mouth to smile. She has no pity for such a small existence; it is already destined to be so much greater. This little flame, Angie will capture and nurture and turn into life.

(Ah, all the noise [she] heard descends into silence now.)

Truly, Angie is divine. Goodbye, little rat friends!

Yet, just as she’s almost got it, the flame extinguishes, plunging her into darkness. Funny thing, she thought she saw somebody just before her vision went black. Atua smiles down upon her, and Angie is in peace.

Vaguely, she feels her body being lifted, and wonders if her god is taking her to heaven.

Her head is throbbing painfully, like being smacked against a wall. Angie is in peace. In peace always.

(Huh. Peace. It is peaceful. That’s strange.)

(Is it maybe too peaceful now?)

Ah, it’s Atua’s nap time, so maybe Angie has been lulled to sleep too. That makes sense. That is quite alright. She has worked very hard.

But if somebody kills Angie, she hopes that they’re cursed for ten generations, and that they receive damnation and Atua makes their lives hell, hell, _hell_ because Angie doesn’t want anyone to be sad anymore. She doesn’t want anyone to cry — but would they cry for her, she wonders.

She thinks about it. Her friends probably wouldn’t cry. Ah. That’s a little sad.

Angie keeps smiling.

(Perhaps this is a blessing.)

It really is a windy night.

(Angie Yonaga will surely make [Atua] smile.)

Rantarou, Kaede, Kirumi and Ryouma see Angie a lot sooner than they expected.

(It is quite a shame to have all this work go to waste though.)

When Angie is with her friends, she will not forget to smile. For they will always be smiling the wax smiles she bestowed upon —

Huh? Huuuhhh? She didn’t carve them to look like that — where are their smiles?

Oh no, that’s not good, not good at all —

(In that case, let’s begin by creating…)

— why are their smiles —

(... a disturbing yet cumbersome distraction by hanging these beautiful wax effigies… )

— upside down?

(... upside down.)

**Author's Note:**

> everything in brackets was actually Shinguuji & Sister "covered" by [Angie] & [Atua]; I love the 'we believe and listen to a higher being that exists within our minds' parallel and will be revisiting it one day


End file.
